Regrets
by HorseshoesAreFun
Summary: "He felt that almost-pleasant-yet-still-excruciating lurch in his chest the moment his eyes registered who that was, headed his way from across the courthouse lobby. She didn't see him because her head was buried in the same old, leather folder that she'd always carried." This sprang from my melancholy contemplations on the ending of 5x10. Set slightly in the future.
1. Chapter 1

_A/N: Tonight I was feeling angst-y and wanting to avoid all the writing I ought to be doing for school, so, out it fell._

He felt that almost-pleasant-yet-still-excruciating lurch in his chest the moment his eyes registered who that was, headed his way from across the courthouse lobby. She didn't see him because her head was buried in the same, old, leather folder that she'd always carried. But it was the only familiar thing about her. That's why it had taken a second for him to realize it was her; familiar or not though – she looked amazing.

Unlike Jordan Shaw, the courtroom was the only place in which Kate Beckett felt justified wearing a skirt to work. When he'd first met her he figured it was because she didn't particularly like them. But eventually, he'd understood that she simply didn't see skirts as practical in the field. Especially not bold, blue, high-waisted pencil skirts that kept her stride clipped and her ankles passing closely together as her shiny, cream-colored, ridiculously high heels clicked along the granite floor. His eyes traveled up her impossibly long, smooth legs and over the blue plane of her skirt, perhaps lingering a second too long on the ruffles along the dipping neckline of her similarly-cream-colored blouse. Just as his gaze skipped along her equally appealing neck to her face, she glanced up and saw him.

Surprise darted across her features and she halted suddenly. The ends of her hair which dangled just below her jawline, swung, drawing his attention to the fact that it was much shorter than it had been, eleven months ago. It was still brown but she'd done away with her highlights and it was dark, along with her makeup which wasn't exactly heavy, but had a more deliberate look than he remembered.

She stood looking at him for a moment, her folder still poised in front of her, seeming at a loss, before her mouth opened, closed again and she swallowed, sending the hesitant movement down her throat.

"You look incredible," he blurted out before his mind caught up with the situation.

That snapped her out of it and her folder closed gently as a shadow came over her face and two of her Royal Blue fingernails traveled to brush a strand of hair from her forehead. For both their sakes, though, she strained her lips into a smile and said, "Hey, Castle."

"Hi," he answered, eyebrows knitting as she struggled to maintain eye contact.

"What…" She cleared her throat and glanced hopelessly elsewhere until she was forced back. "What brings you here?"

"Oh, uh…" He shifted his weight from one foot to the other, feeling equally awkward. "Just some research," he finished vaguely, waving his hand in a dismissive manner.

"Mmm." She nodded matter-of-factly.

"What about you?"

Holding up her folder, she replied, "Case."

His turn to nod, he started, "An interview or…"

They both knew what he was about to say so she nodded again and finished for him, "Testifying."

"Oh."

They stood in silence for a second, unsure of where to go next. Eventually, the shadow swirled out of her eyes and he saw a bit of determined resolution in the set of her jaw. Apparently she wasn't going to let this be awkward. It made him smile; she was still Kate.

"Well – you look great," she said at last, gesturing to his noticeably thinner form.

"Thanks," he replied, unconsciously smoothing a hand down the side of his blazer, not thinking it a good idea to mention the reason he'd unintentionally slimmed down: he'd been wrecked without her. "You don't look so bad yourself," he complimented instead. "I like the haircut."

"Oh," she laughed, finally seeming to loosen a little. "Thank you. It's easier. There's no one around to try and impress anymore…" Her eyebrow twitched up briefly and that old challenging spark flashed in her eyes for a split second, making him smile.

"No boyfriend?" he asked, countering with a hint of a smirk. She just shrugged noncommittally so he said, "Well if this is what you call not trying…" Both of his eyebrows rose in lieu of completing the sentence and then he added, "I'm surprised you don't have a trail of drooling lawyers stumbling along behind you."

Her lips pursed and her index and middle fingers dipped inside her folder and came back out with a small stack of random papers, all of which had phone numbers on them.

He couldn't keep the laugh from escaping him. "Looks like you'll be busy for the next month. Anything promising?"

Nose crinkling, she stuffed them back in and said, "I don't date lawyers."

"Good policy to have."

She frowned then and despite it all, he was still able to read her as easily as ever, immediately gleaning that she wasn't liking where this conversation was going. He changed the subject.

"So, I started a new series."

That drew a smile back out and she said, "I read it. It's good!"

Taken aback, he asked, "You read it?"

She laughed. "Nothing changed the fact that you're still a great writer."

His ears shifted he was smiling so big, and he said, "So – I'm still your favorite author?"

"What can I say?" she replied, shrugging. "It's thrilling stuff."

"Wow, I'm shocked!"

Sincerity laced her next statement, flooring him even more.

"I'll never stop reading what you write."

Those words seemed to pop the bubble that had been forcing them to pretend that everything was okay and he could see that she instantly regretted saying it.

But now that it was out there in the open, the dam had broken and the air was sucked out of his lungs forcing him to just say it, on an inhale.

"I miss you, Kate."

Her eyes closed and her head dropped down as she pinched the bridge of her nose.

"Don't."

"But I _do_."

"Please, Castle. I can't do this right now. They're reconvening in five minutes."

His hand jerked at the sound of his name, wanting to reach out to her, and he struggled to sound steady when he asked, "You can't do this right now? …or ever?"

She dropped her hand and met his eyes again.

"I tried," she said with a sigh, then continued in a hushed voice, "I tried for a year. I gave you everything I had and I just needed to know that you were as invested as I was."

"I _was_."

She shook her head. "You knew what I needed from you but for some reason you couldn't give it to me. You moved heaven and earth until I let you in, but you kept _me_ shut out."

"Kate…"

"You don't have to explain yourself."

"But..."

She interrupted him. "It was good to see you, Castle." Then a rueful smile met him and she added, "Honestly."

"You too," he said instinctively, and before he could try to stop her, she was turning.

When she was about ten feet away, he couldn't help tossing out one last Hail Mary.

"Kate!"

She turned around.

"Can I at least email you?"

He wasn't expecting her to reply encouragingly but he had already thrown away so much and he didn't want to have another regret.

To his surprise though, she smiled one last time and said, "You can always write me, Castle."

_A/N: Now that they're actually together on the show, the thrill has gone out of writing the get-together. So now, we must satisfy ourselves with writing the get-BACK-together, right? ;) One quick disclaimer though: I gots a helluva school load so, don't hate me if I drop off the face of the earth, despite having an idea where this ought to continue from here. Kay?_


	2. Chapter 2

As soon as she had turned the corner and was out of Castle's view, Kate felt like her heels didn't have enough surface area to keep her steady, and she braced herself with a hand against the wall as she leaned forward and pressed her forehead to the cool surface. She took a deep, unsteady breath and willed the pressure building up in her chest not to burst out through her tear ducts. It had been one month short of a year, and seeing him for mere minutes had still managed to send her into a tailspin. She felt pathetic and she wasn't sure if it made her feel better or worse, that he seemed to be just as affected by the encounter as she was.

She'd asked herself a millions times if it had been the biggest mistake of her life to let him go – but then she'd tried to remind herself of how he'd practically forced her hand.

* * *

"_Kate, stop. Can you just relax for a second? Why are you leaving?"_

"_I'm not gonna sit around here and watch you wallow and moon all night when you won't tell me what's going on."_

"_I'm not wallowing!"_

_She glared at him._

"_How am I wallowing?"_

"_God, you've been making morose comments at me all evening – for the last three weeks, actually. And I've asked you a million times what's wrong and you make up some bullshit answer and deflect."_

"_No I don't. You never… when did you ask me what's wrong?"_

"_Every day, Rick! But that's not the point. The point is, when there IS something wrong, you won't ever tell me!"_

"_I don't want to burden you with my problems. I just, I don't want you to have to wor—"_

"_How am I supposed to feel close to you if you won't tell me anything, Castle? It makes me feel like you don't trust me."_

"_Kate, I trust you. You're being ridiculous. This is not a big deal."_

"_You're right; it's not a big deal. And it can keep being 'not a big deal' while I sleep at my place and let you deal with your shit on your own. Call me when you get over it."_

* * *

She'd slammed the door in his face.

That was the part that she looked back on as the beginning of the end. It had been the stone tipping over the crest of the hill, only to gain momentum and eventually run completely away from her. It had only gotten worse from there. She'd wondered hundreds of times, since, if she could have done anything differently. If somehow they could have made it. But that was all in the past. She couldn't do anything to change it now, and she certainly hadn't been able to make him into what she wanted him to be, then. Eventually, she'd tried to convince herself that she'd been idiotic for even trying.

She hit her forehead slowly against the wall, hating the whole situation, wanting to cry but refusing to let herself. She was about to be called to the witness stand and there was no way she was going to let this goddamned episode with Richard Castle interfere with her job.

Whispering to herself to pull it together, she pushed off the wall and stood back up.

"Everything okay, Detective?"

Trying not to jump noticeably at the sound of his voice, she turned to face defending attorney, Victor Navarro, whose phone number, coincidentally, was tucked in her stack of miscellaneous-bits-of-paper.

Pasting on a smile, she squared her shoulders and said, "Yeah, I just… I'm fine."

He looked unconvinced. "Are you sick or…"

"No, no." She shook her head. "It was just…" Trailing off, she unconsciously gestured in the direction of where she'd just been talking to Castle.

"Who was that you were talking to?" Navarro asked, apparently having seen them. "Should I call security?"

"No," Kate said, getting a little frustrated with his interrogations. "It was just an old friend."

Navarro's eyes narrowed, flicking to where Castle had been standing a few minutes ago.

"Well clearly whatever he said upset you. If he's bothering you I can…"

She didn't let him finish whatever insipid offer he was going to make in an attempt to defend her honor. She hadn't asked for his pretense at chivalry.

"No, he's my ex and I'm still in love with him."

That effectively shut Navarro up and she strode off, leaving him standing slack-jawed in the hall.

* * *

To her dismay, throughout the next week, Kate found herself sifting through the multifarious trumpery of emails that she _never_ went through, on the three email accounts that she knew Castle had. She hated herself for it, but she couldn't stop, just in case he did write.

A year.

It had been nearly one year and she hadn't been able to even _begin_ getting over him. Sure, she'd rebounded once – twice even, but it hadn't meant anything. And it hadn't lasted more than a few weeks.

She'd made excuses for herself and then had promptly torn them to bits with the logical reason why she should get over him. But he was part of her; and more than for the mere fact that he was the only man she'd really loved. Well... since she'd convinced herself that she was in love with Greg Williams, in high school. Even now, she was still willing to believe that she had been, but that had been before her mom died. And all of that was what made Castle seem like he was infused into the fibers of her being. He'd brought her through all of that. Their one year relationship aside, being her only true lover aside, he'd been her rock, her anchor. He was the reason she'd crawled back from the edge of the rabbit hole and managed to find a semblance of healing from the event that shredded her entire life. He was imbued into her soul. And that's why it had cut so deep when she couldn't be that much for him. When he'd kept her on what she felt like was the outer edge of his heart.

She hadn't been able to bear it.

And then there he was, standing in the middle of the courthouse lobby, wanting back in again and she _still_ couldn't bear it. But she still wanted to know what he had to say. If he'd regretted as much as she had. If he could forget everything and take her back. If she wasn't crazy for still loving him.

So when she saw the email from him, three days later, in her inbox, her heart started racing and her hand trembled as she battled herself for a good two minutes, over whether or not she should read it.


	3. Chapter 3

"What did Castle say?"

She couldn't be entirely sure, but Kate thought that beneath that cool, collected, I-would-still-sit-here-calmly-with-my-legs-crossed-even-if-New-York-was-being-invaded-by-aliens, demeanor that Dr. Burke constantly maintained, she could sense a bit of ennui. As if the fact that after all this time, Castle still managing to be a main theme in her therapy sessions made Burke wish he'd taken a few extra minutes with his coffee and newspaper before her time slot, to mentally prepare himself. She was pretty sure she noticed his eyes glaze over when she told him about the email – but then, maybe she was projecting. After all, this subject even tired _her_ out sometimes. Mainly because it was just such a mess, but that's what she paid Dr. Burke for, right?

She pulled her legs up under her and said, "He apologized."

Then, huffing a sigh, she raked a hand through her hair while Burke sat, expectantly waiting. And after a short silence, she gave in and continued.

"He said that if he could go back and change what happened, he would. He said he misses me. He said it felt wrong to throw away everything we'd been through together, just because we couldn't make it work romantically." She paused, internally reliving the emotions that had come with reading his email. "He said a lot of stuff."

"And, how do you feel about all of this?"

She frowned. "I miss him too."

"So what are you going to do about it?"

"I don't know."

She suddenly felt very small. These were the sorts of tough problems that Castle used to help her work through. But now, he _was_ the problem. Or rather, the _lack_ of him was the problem. She wanted to be back to the time when she could show up on his door step and melt into his arms, just because. The time when there wasn't so much baggage between them. When they hadn't broken each others hearts with such finality. She wished it could be as easy as telling him that she missed him too, and picking up where they left off. But the whole reason she _didn't_ know what to do was because it _wasn't _that easy.

"Are you going to reply?" Burke asked.

Closing her eyes, she put a hand to her face, pressing thumb and middle finger to her temples, which were starting to throb.

"I don't know."

Dr. Burke made some sort of notation on his notepad that didn't seem long enough to even be a complete word, and Kate couldn't help wondering if he was just doodling.

"Did he _ask_ you to reply?" he inquired when he looked up.

She bit her lip and frowned, before answering, "He said that when he asked me, I told him he could write me, but not that I would write back, and that he understood if I wasn't going to, but that he would keep writing until I asked him to stop." Finally, she chuckled and rolled her eyes. "So typical."

"Will you let him keep writing?" Burke grilled, before making another notation that looked rather circular, from her vantage point.

"How can I say no?"

"Where exactly do you want this to go?"

Another sigh escaped her and she said, "I don't know. All I know is that I want him back in my life – even if that means only in emails."

* * *

"What's gotten the 1990's sweats and the Reddi Wip out, dear?" Martha asked, sashaying into the loft to find her son half-reclined on the couch with one foot on the coffee table and entirely too much whipped cream in his mouth.

"Nothing," he managed around the mouthful of white foam that was oozing from his lips.

Alexis came down the stairs with the suitcase she'd just packed for her summer gallivanting and said, "He saw Beckett the other day."

"Oh, Richard," Martha crooned, sweeping over to sit beside him on the couch.

He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and threw a sullen look at Alexis.

"How did you know that?" he asked.

Alexis deposited her luggage by the door and then made her way to stand in front of him, saying, "Just because I don't intern at the morgue anymore doesn't mean I don't keep in touch."

"Lanie told you," he grumbled.

Leaning down to kiss his cheek, she said, "I'm sorry, Dad. If it's any consolation, Lanie said that she was just as undone by it as you were."

He just grunted, unconvinced, but he tried to put on a smile because Alexis was off to execute her meticulously planned summer vacation with college friends, and was saying her farewells.

After she'd gone, Martha turned to him. "What happened?"

"She said I could write to her."

"And? Did you?"

He didn't even have to say anything because he had the same, dissatisfied look that he'd had when he was a kid and she'd forced him to wear a tie to her plays.

"She didn't reply," Martha concluded, nodding in confirmation of her own statement. "How long?"

"Five days," he spat. "I told her I understood if she didn't write back, but I didn't think she'd actually do that."

"Well, today is Friday," Martha offered. "Maybe it's been a busy week at the precinct."

"Or maybe she's moved on and I'll be left to suffer in my misery alone for all eternity," Castle grumbled, over dramatically.

Martha reached for his hand, clasping it lovingly before she said, "Maybe it's time you moved on, too, Richard."

"I have to make it right, Mother. We were more than a failed relationship. We were friends, coworkers, partners – we were everything. And I screwed it up."

"Don't be so hard on yourself, kiddo."

He dispensed another pile of Reddi Wip into his mouth and threw his head onto the back of the couch indignantly.

"Oh, darling" Martha consoled. "I'm sorry."

She gave him a sympathetic squeeze and he watched her head toward the stairs as she offered a few more encouraging words along the way. Then he dragged himself up from the couch and went into his office where he opened a new email and stared at the bank page for a few minutes before he started typing.

_Kate_

Backspace.

_Dear Beckett_

Backspace again.

_Asdlkfjwefoiusgfkljaedf;oifdua_

He deleted the whole thing and closed his laptop.

If only he knew what she was thinking. Had she gotten his email? Had it upset her? Was she mad at him? Was she simply taking her time composing a reply? Was she trying to make him suffer a little? Either way, he _was_ suffering. He wished he knew what her reaction had been; how she felt. He wished he could just go there and see her face, hug her, be with her. But she'd said he could _write_, and he was already on tenterhooks about that, if he showed up unannounced, it would definitely not help his cause.

Feeling just as bad as he had when he'd repaired to the fridge for whipped cream, he pulled out the one framed picture he had of them, from his desk drawer where he'd unsuccessfully tried to forget about it. It was just a random, candid photo that Alexis had taken on a night when they'd all stayed in and played board games. He was standing in the living room, arms around Kate's waist, attempting to kiss her. But she had one palm braced against his forehead to keep him away while the other hand was brushing something out of his lashes before it could get in his eye. She was laughing in the picture and he remembered that after she'd extricated the foreign object, she'd whispered something in his ear. He couldn't remember what she said, but her warm breath had made him shiver and he hadn't been fully focused on the game for the rest of the night.

With a desperate sigh, he tossed the picture back in the drawer and nudged it shut.

By the time his Reddi Wip can was spraying mostly air, he'd re-opened his email and was pouring out his heart.

_A/N: I wasn't bold enough to actually compose the first email because I didn't know if I could make it legit. He is a writer after all. And a lot of times when I read fics where one or the other of them writes to each other, I'm like "no no no! what are you doing? That's not what they'd say!" I mean, I can do dialogue okay because we have plenty of that to base off of, character-wise. But I don't know if I could find Castle's voice in a personal letter because there's no model for it in the canon. Idk. I might just go for it in the next chap. What do you think?_


	4. Chapter 4

_A/N: Okay, so. I pretty much hated the way this story was shaking out after the first chapter, and following some similar sentiments form a few fine folks, I've now decided to take a sharp turn and reboot. Thus, I give you a good ole deus ex machina and hopefully we can brush the bad-story dust from our heels and pick this fic up off its face… well, I'll try anyway. _

Castle stopped just outside the entrance of the bistro and checked to see how his hair was coping with the journey from his loft. After grimacing at his reflection in the window and combing the front down with his fingers, he took a deep breath and reached for the door.

Kate grinned, watching him through the window. He always did that. He'd always been in love with his own hair – but then, so had she.

He stepped inside, pausing for a moment to scan the restaurant for her.

She had texted him yesterday.

_Hey, Castle. Sorry about not getting back to you, we've been swamped at the precinct. I'm not ignoring you though. Maybe we could get lunch… if you're up for it._

Of course, he'd said yes, and now, here they were. She wasn't exactly sure what to expect from this, but his emails had reminded her just what had been missing from her life; and anyway, it's not like they had parted, hating each other. They were still friends.

After a small wave and a smile when he finally located her, she watched as he picked his way around the many tables between the one she was sitting at, and where he was standing, capitalizing on the opportunity to really take him in for the first time in forever. When they'd bumped into each other at the courthouse, she'd been so surprised that she had barely had time to grasp the fact that he was actually right there in front of her. But now –

She'd always been able to appreciate how he looked in a great-fitting pair of jeans, and the purple V-neck that he was wearing wasn't hurting either. It was true that he had slimmed down, but he was naturally sort of bulky, so shedding a few pounds had only served to accentuate the way the cotton fabric hugged his broad chest and muscular biceps.

Suddenly he pulled up right in front of her.

"Hi," he said, standing there, arms dangling at his sides, looking down at her with that smile that pressed his lips together and made his eyes twinkle.

Trying to school the gawking expression that she hoped wasn't smeared across her face, she arched an eyebrow and said, "Are you gonna sit down?"

Still smiling, he pulled out his chair and sat, keeping his eyes fixed on her the whole time.

"Not even a 'hello?'" he asked, sliding his menu off the table.

"Well, the moment's passed now," she answered, letting go of the glass of water she'd been about to pick up, and wiping the condensation from her palm onto the napkin in her lap. "Anyway, I waved."

"No, it's okay," he said, raising his menu up in front of his face. "I know purple is your favorite color."

She could hear the smug smile in his voice, even without seeing it. Evidently they were sparring already, but it actually relieved her a little bit because it felt normal; it felt like them, and she hadn't been sure what to expect, before.

"What are you getting?" he asked, letting her off the hook.

She chuckled and instead of answering his question, said, "You'd probably like the grilled chicken on ciabatta."

Tilting his menu down, away from his face, he replied, "Does that mean you're having something with portabella?"

Her lips twitched up into a half smile and she just shrugged. She still knew that he hated portabellas and he still knew that her answer indicated that.

"Gross," he said, taking her shrug as confirmation and returning to his menu.

Just then, the waiter appeared and asked if he wanted something to drink. Castle requested a Coke and when the waiter was about to give them an extra minute to order he said, "Actually, I think we're ready."

She order her mushroom panini and he handed back their menus saying, "And I'll have the grilled chicken on ciabatta."

The waiter took it all down on his notepad and when he had gone, Kate smirked.

"What?"

She kept smiling. "Nothing."

"Grilled chicken sounded good," he defended.

"I didn't say anything."

"Yeah, and we both know how that works," he concluded, unrolling his silverware and returning her smirk with his own.

Taking a drink of her water, she regarded him for second. In this moment, she was having trouble remembering why they'd broken up. Could it really have been as bad as all that? Her more rational self, reminded her of how much it had hurt, in those last few months when things fell apart, and she knew it had been unavoidable. But that was then. And this was now, and she found herself hoping that maybe now that the pain had subsided a little, just maybe they could start rebuilding something their friendship.

At least now she knew what to expect from him. Before, she had needed him. Needed _them_. He'd wrought some major changes in her life and she had been healing back then. But now, she hoped that they were both on more solid ground, and even though there was always that glimmer of hope that they might eventually get back together, for now, she just wanted her best friend back.

"So how's that blue skirt of yours doing?" Castle asked, as the side of his mouth tilted up.

"You liked that, huh?" she retorted.

"Jeez, I think there's been a blue skirt in every dream I've had, since last week."

She knew he was trying to compliment her but she couldn't stop the sigh that escaped. They seemed to be automatically falling back into their old tendencies; but things weren't the same as they used to be. They weren't together and he probably shouldn't be commenting on how much he was still attracted to her.

"Sorry," he said, recognizing the thoughts that were crossing her face. "That was insensitive of me. How are _you_ doing, Kate?"

The genuineness of the question and the earnest look on his face made gravity malfunction in her stomach.

"I'm okay, actually. I have my moments but then…"

"So do we all," he finished.

She nodded.

The look on his face was a mixture of things, but she thought it might be him wishing he was still allowed into her thoughts, and she found herself still impulsively drawn out.

"If I was completely honest," she started. "This whole week has kind of been a moment. I was actually doing…"

She trialed off but he knew what she meant.

"I'm sorry."

Shaking her head, she replied, "It's not your fault."

"It kind of is."

They looked at each other for a moment while she tried break out her best smile.

"Let's just enjoy today."

Castle seemed relieved by that and jumped on board right away.

"So, on the way here, I ran into this guys who was completely off it, like not at all right in the head, but he looked exactly like Esposito!"

Kate laughed; they were gonna be okay.


End file.
